


Just a Pack of Sweets - Interlude

by GrumpyJenn



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, M-Rated Scene in T-Rated Fic, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 03:13:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1288969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyJenn/pseuds/GrumpyJenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fits between chapters ten and eleven - and isn't that fitting? - of <i>Just a Pack of Sweets</i>. </p><p>Written as a separate fic so my little Whovians can still read JaPoS.</p><p>Dedicated to those who have already kudoed JaPoS</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Pack of Sweets - Interlude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kehwie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kehwie/gifts), [Sandbar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandbar/gifts), [dotsonapage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotsonapage/gifts), [gladdecease](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gladdecease/gifts), [TheDoctorandRiver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDoctorandRiver/gifts), [wholockedpsycho7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholockedpsycho7/gifts), [thanatosx49](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanatosx49/gifts), [whatdoyoucallafemaletimelord](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatdoyoucallafemaletimelord/gifts), [Atanaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atanaa/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Just a Pack of Sweets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146139) by [GrumpyJenn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyJenn/pseuds/GrumpyJenn). 



Later that night, after the rest of the household had gone to bed, Martha brought Mickey a cup of tea, sweetened with honey for his bruised throat. She sat beside him where he was propped with pillows on the bed and watched him drink. Each time he swallowed he winced, she noticed, and it made her own throat ache to watch him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he looked up in surprise.

“What for?”

The clinician in Martha noted that he still sounded hoarse but his voice was improving and he didn’t wince when he spoke. The woman in Martha wanted to weep. She could have lost him, because she wasn’t paying close enough attention. “I should’ve reacted faster,” she said, and he shook his head. “Yes,” she insisted, and started to get up. She needed to _move_ , to rid herself of the guilt, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back down.

“You saved me, Martha,” he said seriously, and tugged her into a one-armed hug. “My turn with the bad arm, that’s all.”

_That’s not all. I could have lost you, Mickey. I don’t know if I could bear it._

Martha laid her forehead on his. “Tell me not to go,” she said quietly, and moved a bit closer, mindful of his shoulder. _Please tell me you want me here._

“Don’t go.” His eyes were on hers.

“Ask me…” She kissed him, long and slow and sweet, and he kissed her back, eyes fluttering shut. “Ask me to stay.” _Don’t make me leave._

“Please,” Mickey said, opening his eyes. “Please stay.”

Martha watched Mickey watch her with wide dark eyes as she leaned down to kiss him again.

“I’m staying.”

This kiss was longer and slower and sweeter even than the last. Mickey’s mouth tasted of honeyed tea and restrained need and exhaustion, and Martha whispered against his lips. “Are you sure?”

He nodded, tried to reach for her with his good hand.

She took it, kissed the fingertips, let one slide into her mouth. She sucked at it for a moment, then let it loose with a slight pop, and watched as Mickey’s eyes closed of their own accord.

 

-/-

 

 _Oh God,_ Mickey thought as he watched Martha’s face, _don’t stop. Stop, I want to touch y_... she slipped his finger into her mouth and sucked, _and oh God, please don’t stop_.

Then she pulled back and Mickey opened the eyes he didn’t remember closing.

He _wanted_ her but he could barely move he was so tired. And almost in tears with frustration because oh, _God_ , he’d waited for weeks, _months_ even and now he was too bloody knackered, injured, and... Mickey’s mind went round and round in circles, but Martha seemed to understand, because she leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“Mickey. Lie back.”

“I want...”

“I know,” she said, and now she sounded... confident, sure of herself. “But you’re injured, you’ve lost nearly a litre of blood, and you’re still just a bit shocky. So I want you to lie back and let me love you.” She smiled... no, she _grinned_ at him. “Trust me; I’m your doctor. Lie back... I’ll help.”

 _Oh, God._ “Martha, I...” But she had efficiently settled him back into the pile of pillows, and she was kneeling beside him now and pulling her sleep shirt off over her head and kissing him and oh, God, _Martha_... “God, let me look at you.” She eased back so she was sitting on the bed wearing nothing but her knickers, and Mickey’s mouth went dry. “Martha, you’re _beautiful_. So...”

But she was kissing him again, and his mind went blank as his good hand slipped between the little braids and tugged her closer. He ran it slowly down the side of her neck, her shoulder, down her arm. Mickey felt her shiver. “OK?” he murmured it into her mouth, and she nodded without letting go, then started sprinkling kisses along his jaw.

“Just fine,” Martha breathed against Mickey’s ear, and he got the shivers too.

 

/-

 

“I thought I’d lost you in there,” Martha heard herself whispering into Mickey’s ear, and he tilted his head back to look at her.

“You saved me,” he said simply, and bent his head to kiss her, the hand on her arm skimming down to tangle in her fingertips for just a moment before it slid with aching slowness up her side to cup one breast. She moved into the touch involuntarily, and heard herself sigh as Mickey stroked her skin. “C’mere...” he said softly, ducking his head and breaking the kiss.

Martha leaned over him, and when he took the peak of her breast between his lips, she arched her back. “Mickey...” She breathed it, and moved to straddle his legs, to give him better access to whatever, wherever he wanted to touch.

She reached down to free him from the pyjama bottoms that were all he wore, and he groaned around her nipple, then let it go. “God, _Martha_ , I...”

“Shh...” she said, and stroked him once from base to tip.

Mickey whimpered, raising his hips to meet her as she stroked again. “Where...” He was almost panting now. “Where did you learn to _do_ that?”

“Oh,” she heard herself say in that slightly breathless voice, “I’m a doctor. Top marks in anatomy, you know.” She stroked again and again, and twisted her wrist just _so_ , and when his hips bucked involuntarily, she grinned at him. “And in physiology.” She bit gently at his earlobe.

“ _God_.” Mickey was almost to the edge now; Martha could feel it in his body and hear it in his panting moans, and she was surprised when he grasped her wrist to stop her.

“My go,” he suggested, and let go her wrist, slid his hand into her knickers, and _touched_ her.

“God, _Mickey_!” Martha’s head fell back as he stroked his fingers through the wet folds of her.

“Nah, just plain Mickey’ll do,” he said, and she looked at him, incredulously laughing and riding his hand and oh, God, so good, he...

It took very little time for Martha to come completely undone, and she bucked against his hand and gasped his name over and over again, and when her body shuddered to a stop she had just enough of the medic left in her to collapse on the side of his chest without the bandage, so white against his skin.

Once Martha got her breathing under control, she slipped her hand down Mickey’s body again, to find him still hard and ready, and she brushed her thumb over his tip. He caught his breath and his whole body tensed, but his voice was admirably steady, if still hoarse, when he said, softly, “Condoms?”

She shook her head. “UNIT contraceptives; they’re long term.”

“But what about...”

“I trust you, Mickey,” she said, and squeezed.

And after that it was all quiet moans and approving little whimpers, whispered endearments and stroking and licking and sucking of skin. It was a very gentle kiss over the bandage covering the wound in Mickey’s shoulder, and Martha sinking slowly down on and around him. It was her rising and falling again, riding him and watching him watch her, and his fingers, those _clever_ fingers, rubbing and stroking and pinching lightly until they peaked together.

Then Martha curled up against Mickey’s good side and they slept.

 

-/-

 

Hours later, Mickey stretched as far as his bandaged shoulder would allow, and ran the fingers of his good hand through the tiny braids the sleeping Martha wore. _You’re still here,_ he thought, with a certain wonder. _Still here, with me, the tin dog._ He felt a little choked up, like he might cry if given any excuse at all. And it wasn’t the same as the sore throat he’d had since the Cyberchief had squeezed him; this was emotional, not physical.

Martha stretched without opening her eyes, and his fingers slipped out of her hair. “G’morning…” she mumbled, burrowed deeper into his good side, and went back to sleep. Mickey’s arm tightened around her without asking him and the lump in his throat got bigger, and he must have made some sort of noise, because she roused again. Sitting up, she rubbed sleep out of her eyes, suddenly all doctor. “Your shoulder? Did we exacerbate the wound?” She inspected the bandage. “Looks okay, so…” Glancing at his face, she went back to the woman rather than the medic. “Mickey? What’s wrong, love?

 _You’re still here,_ he thought, but he swallowed hard and managed a smile. “Nothing.” Sliding his good hand around the back of her neck, he pulled her toward him and kissed her gently on the lips. “Nothing at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> And yes, it does have the last few paragraphs as chapter ten and the first few of chapter eleven; it's effectively chapter 10.5... like Handy


End file.
